


Life in Slow Motion

by Westwardflight



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Westwardflight/pseuds/Westwardflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t help but think of Farmer with his nasty milk and horrible vegetables while he sat by his fire that night. Hunter had more meat than he could eat on his, and Farmer had been very kind to him, even if that milk stuff was actually the worst thing he had ever tasted</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life in Slow Motion

**Author's Note:**

> I found myself researching the evolution of language and the rise of farming societies in the late Mesolithic/early Neolithic period, though I did disregard most of it in the end. Written in response to [this](http://hhanon.livejournal.com/574.html?thread=353086#t353086) HH Anonmeme prompt. Un-betaed.

He couldn’t help but think of Farmer with his nasty milk and horrible vegetables while he sat by his fire that night. Hunter had more meat than he could eat on his, and Farmer had been very kind to him, even if that milk stuff was actually the worst thing he had ever tasted. 

Hunter gathered up his food he could, and made his way over toward Farmer’s cave. “Hello?” he called as he approached. Farmer might not hunt anymore, but he probably still had a spear or two lying around. 

From somewhere in the darkness, Farmer called back, “Who’s there?”

“It’s Hunter! I brought you some meat so you don’t just have to eat disgusting vegebles.”

“Vegetables. And thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” Farmer emerged from his little garden with a handful of orangey things.

He couldn’t help but smile. “It’s elk, I caught it today after I was here. No way could I eat it all on my own.”

Farmer smiled back at him. “I have some carrots we can eat with it.”

Hunter did his best not to grimace, but he obviously failed because Farmer looked a bit huffy.

“Fine, more for me.” 

The silence was almost tense as they walked over to Farmer’s cave, which was warm and dry. Farmer softened, though, when Hunter gave put some of the meat into the fire. His eyes lit up as the smell started to fill the cave.

Hunter told Farmer about his recent travels. He had only arrived in this area today, travelling from the north. 

“This is delicious,” Farmer said, tucking in with relish. “Are you sure you don’t want any carrot to go with it? They are really good.”

“No thank you.”

When Farmer looked a little hurt, Hunter smiled and asked him about how he set up his home. Farmer lit up, and told him all about how he got everything established. Hunter just settled back and watched him, feeling warm and content.

*

He found himself drifting back to see Farmer for the next few nights, bringing whatever he had caught or foraged to share. It was nice in Farmer’s cave, he felt warm and safe there, and Farmer always looked so pleased to see him.

It was strange at first, sleeping near someone else. Hunter jerked awake, looking wildly about for a threat every time Farmer snuffled in his sleep. The first night, he sat bolt upright, grasping blindly for his weapon. Farmer cracked one eye open and murmured at him to go back to sleep. He lay back down and Farmer shuffled a bit closer to him and pulled the pelts a bit tighter. 

He never quite shook the small voice at the back of his mind reminding him that he is supposed to be travelling, pushing across the country. He doesn’t have time to dally here just because Farmer has a nice cave and smiles like the sun has come out every time he shows up.

The season is about to turn when he forced himself to leave. He really had stayed for too long. When he had to say good-bye to Farmer, he very carefully didn’t look back.

*

Many seasons had passed when he found himself back there again. He almost didn’t go back to see Farmer. It had been a long time, Farmer might have forgotten about the stray nomad that used to come to visit and Hunter was not at all sure he could handle Farmer looking at him without that stupid, goofy smile.

Hunter sat beside his fire, considering his options. The sun had long since set when he finally made his mind. He pulled his knees up to chest, curled tight beside the fire. He couldn’t stay away, he would go to see Farmer tomorrow, hoping he is welcome. He spent a restless night, unable to settle, anticipation sitting tight and low in his belly.

The sun had barely made its presence known when he woke. He stretched, the pop of his joints shockingly loud in the pre-dawn quiet. He needed a gift, a clutch of rabbits and whatever berries he could find. Farmer’s probably just been eating nasty vegetables, so he’d be grateful for the food Hunter brought and let him stay.

He hunted until the sun was high overhead, ignoring the itch of want beneath his skin until it overwhelmed him and he found himself drifting in the direction of Farmer. 

Hunter forced unwilling feet to stop when the Farmer’s vegetables come into sight. He needed to extinguish the stubborn ember of hope that sat low in his belly and brace himself for rejection.

He took a deep breath before pushing forward towards Farmer’s cave. His gardens have grown quite a lot since Hunter was here last time, and his herd of goats has almost doubled in size. Hunter ignored the pang in his chest.

“Farmer,” he called tentatively, resisting the urge to feel foolish. “Farmer, are you home?” He walked over to the cave and had a look inside. “I brought rabbits,” he said, quietly. Perhaps Farmer was down by the stream. 

But no, he was not there either. Hunter tried to suppress the worry that rears its head. Farmer might not hunt anymore, but he was more than capable of looking after himself. So Hunter would wait. This was Farmer’s home; he would be coming back eventually.

The warmth was starting to leech from the air and sun was creeping below the horizon when Farmer finally arrived.

“Farmer!” he shouted, springing to his feet.

“Who’s that?” Farmer called back, tension pulling his voice tight.

Hunter did not flinch, just held out his hands and walked towards him. “It’s Hunter, I’m back.”

Farmer dropped the pile of branches he was carrying. “Hunter?” he asked, disbelief writ clear across his face.

He waved a little with his free hand, ridiculous smile spreading uncontrollably across his face.

Farmer rushed over to him, wood forgotten, and pulled Hunter into a hug. 

“You’re too skinny,” Farmer tutted, and Hunter could not force any words past the lump in his throat. 

He just pulled Farmer a little closer instead. When he finally got his breath back, he murmured, “I brought rabbits.”

He could feel Farmer smile against his neck. “I’ll make a nice stew and we’ll get some meat on your bones.” Farmer pulled away from him, and looked him up and down. “Much too thin,” he said with a sigh.

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting all day.” He couldn’t stop the words bubbling out, more desperate than he intended.

It was almost dark now, but he could see the flush creeping up Farmer’s neck. “There is another farm close by.”

“Oh.” His voice is small, and he can feel his smile twisting into something shakier.

Farmer turned away, going back to gather the branches he had dropped. “Let’s go inside,” he said gently, smiling up at Hunter.

Hunter nodded, and knelt down to help him pick up the wood. The silence stretched between them as Farmer started the fire and Hunter skinned the rabbits. Every so often words like ‘I missed you’ or ‘I’m so glad I’m back’ or ‘who were you visiting today?’ would threaten to pass through gritted teeth, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let them loose.

Farmer put the meat and vegetables into a stone bowl set of water and set it on the fire, then sat back and smiled at Hunter.

He tried to smile back, but it might have been more of a grimace. 

“How have you been?” Farmer asked, his eyes saying something Hunter couldn’t quite understand.

“Good. I’ve been good. It’s been a good couple of seasons. Lots of game to hunt, never had to go more than a few days without food.”

Something flitted across Farmer’s face. “I wish you would set up a farm like mine. Then you wouldn’t have to worry,” he said, and Hunter’s smile became something more solid at the familiar chiding.

He replied, “But then I would have to eat horrible vegetables and drink disgusting milk like you.”

Farmer smiled warmly at him. “Trust me, you’ll like what I’ve started doing with them. There are some more farms around here now, and we keep trying new things.” He got very excited for a moment, but trailed off at the end. “Are you okay? You’ve gone very pale.”

“I’m fine, just fine. Really excited about this new thing you’re making me.” He fisted his hand in his tunic, then forced his fingers to release one by one. 

“Still travelling on your own then?”

“Yeah, haven’t found anyone I can stand to travel with.”

Farmer checked the soup, before grinning at Hunter. “It’s ready.”

It was delicious and just as Farmer had promised; the vegetables were tender and delicious. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

Hunter wanted to ask about these other farmers Farmer was spending time with, but was not entirely sure he could stomach the answer.

They chatted comfortably in the cave, curled up under some of Farmer’s pelts. He was half asleep, warm and content when Farmer asked, “Are you staying?”

They were quiet, but there was so much weight behind them that they felt like a physical blow. 

He didn’t answer immediately. Every instinct he had warned him against settling in one spot. Survival depended on following the warmth, the prey, the plants; how could he possible put down roots?

“Sorry, I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” Farmer drew his knees up, curling in on himself, and Hunter can feel the distance cooling between them.

“Staying. I’m going to stay,” he whispered. He didn’t quite mean to say it, but he didn’t quite regret it either.

“That’s good,” Farmer said happily. 

Warmth spread across Hunter’s skin, and he shuffled over toward Farmer and curled around him. He could get used to this.


End file.
